


sanctuary

by kalypsobean



Category: Night World - L. J. Smith
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 01:08:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13065966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalypsobean/pseuds/kalypsobean





	sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [intimacies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intimacies/gifts).



Ash lands back in his apartment sometime that wasn't quite dawn, but too late to risk heading back out and being noticed, especially as it's not technically his apartment.

It's not even as he left it. It had been not plain, but functional, in a way that still felt temporary. Now, there are candles, and it smells, and the light is not only on, but dimmed by way of a curtain-looking thing hanging from somewhere. It feels familiar, though, even as he reaches out, probing for some trace of the interloper's mind, and makes contact.

 

For a moment he wishes he'd turned right three hours ago, risked going back to the one place he knew was still his, but proximity to the enclave and to the Elders are both things he greatly prefers to avoid, and so, home remains a risk. One that, honestly, he's too damn tired for. He had intended to crash, likely even without undressing, and then sneaking back out without anyone congratulating him while dragging him into yet another boring meeting. Daybreaker properties had excellent security, though, so sometimes he tolerated it, but he'd really hoped not to have to see anyone until he'd slept at least until dark, if not later. 

 

"Going to bed," he grumbles. He stumbles around the bowls and stones and through the door to his room.

 _Don't burn the place down, Blaise_ he tells her, and then, finally, he sleeps.

-

It's only been a few hours; he can tell because it's not the instantly aware kind of wakefulness that's normal for him. Even when he's sure he's awake and not just dreamwalking, he feels slower than usual, less alert and somewhat disconnected. And, of course, when he stalks back out to the main room, he can see thin beams of sunlight crossing the room, catching on small flecks of dust as if the air itself is charged with power. 

She's still working, but now everything seems more ordered, somehow, or contained, as if before, he'd seen the ingredients laid out, and now they were being combined. It was her working that woke him, he realises; the shifting of power being moulded and shaped was unsettling enough even when he was aware of it. Even though it was Blaise, and she wouldn't dare hurt him, it was too much to sleep through, especially now, with everything around him changing so fast. He manages to slip out without Blaise even noticing, though he's sure she at least knows he was there, or at least, hadn't yelled at him for interrupting her.

 

His initial plan had been to get to the den and sleep on the couch there; he already knew it was comfortable enough for sleeping on, and would hopefully be far enough away that he wouldn't feel Blaise working and therefore be able to rest properly. It would also be truly dark, or he could make it that way. Instead, and he blames the day for this and not that he's still bone tired, he nearly trips over Thea in yet another hallway. This place is a damn maze. He blames Thierry for that, though.

"Ash, you're back!" Thea says, and bounces on her toes. He glares until she steps back and he's sure she won't try to hug him. "You're coming later, right?"

"Do I have a choice?" he says, shielding his mind and trying to keep his voice even and relaxed, slightly petulant... trying to sound normal. She must pick up on something, perhaps how he's obviously not asleep in the middle of the day like most normal vampires would be, and hurries outside, much to his relief.

The prospect of yet another boring meeting, with some new happy couple and the occasional mention of a possibly impending apocalypse, somehow makes him feel ill. Since he's been seen, he's going to be expected to go; if he sleeps in the den, he'll be there by default, and won't have the choice of making an excuse.

 

He really should have gone anywhere else; at least at a club, he'd know what questions were coming, and wouldn't have to think about what he was doing, at least, he hadn't had to before. 

Something doesn't sit right about Thea, though, and he's in the kitchen and out again before it clicks.

 

Blaise is finished when he gets back to his room, and the blinds are fully closed, much to his relief. There are still candles, of course, but they're a dull, diffused light that he barely notices.

"You run away or something?" he says.

"They sent me to the Convent," she replies, tossing her hair back from her face as she stood. Her opinion of the place was clear in the expression on her face, a wrinkled nose and bitten lip, as if she wasn't sure he wouldn't send her right back.

A few weeks ago, he would have.

"Food?" he says, instead holding out a plate to her. "And you can explain why you're in my room and not your cousin's."

"Thea's here?" Blaise starts, and her mind goes sharp and clear, as if she thought she could find Thea simply with divination. 

"Turn right, all the way to the end, and outside," he says. Blaise scoops up whatever it was she was making from the floor and is halfway to the door before she stops. He sees them clearly, then; two protection amulets, unlike anything he's ever seen, crafted with amethyst and some dark, black smooth stones, and yet, they feel warm, somehow, as if they were whispering _nothing to see here, everything's okay_ and making him believe it.

"You won't... tell Grandma, will you?" she says. This is the thing Ash hates most about dealing with family and people, and everyone, and this place. It's not enough for some cosmic joke to upend someone's life - everyone expects them to be happy about having to keep it secret, like it's some big honour or something. He's exhausted just from keeping it all straight. But she sounds fragile, totally unlike the confident, carefree Blaise he'd always known her as, and he catches from her a sense of loss and fear, something no longer entirely alien to him. 

It's official. He hates the whole soulmate thing. 

"Eat something," he says, "and I won't." If she thinks she made it into Thierry's house undetected, and that the Crone doesn't know about it by now, it's not his place to inform her otherwise; not turning her in feels a bit rebellious, but he's too exhausted to think more than that.

 

He stumbles back to his bed before she actually leaves, very deliberately cutting off any chance for the conversation to turn personal, at least, personal about him. It'd be nice to have someone around who wasn't a total goody-goody, who _understood_ , though. If she was allowed to stay, which he would have nothing to do with, naturally. 

 

This time he actually manages to take off his jacket and his shoes before he lands on the bed, and it feels quiet enough that he could sleep, properly for once...

He shields his mind and then falls into blackness, where he dreams of stars, and then of fire.


End file.
